


nimis

by armethaumaturgy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Come Inflation, Double Penetration, M/M, Muteness, Non-Human Genitalia, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sounding, i guess. does it count if you have 2 dicks, male character with she/her pronouns, this is just filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24686737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armethaumaturgy/pseuds/armethaumaturgy
Summary: “My rules,” he signs, and she sighs in return, as theatrically as she can.There’s no denying the excited gleam in her mismatched eyes, or the way her tail lashes, pushed aside when it smacks into his thigh. He pulls her underwear down, lifting his gaze up just so he’s sure she can see the almost-mocking (though purely joking, she knows) look he gives her, almost as if saying ‘Really? Already?’
Relationships: Warrior of Light/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Kudos: 10





	nimis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elsword](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsword/gifts).



The bed creaks as she’s pushed into it. With how frequent this is, she’s surprised the bed is still intact. She expects the push of gravity on her, and willingly puts her hands above her head for them to be held down.

It’s almost routine by now — though no less exciting of a routine by any means. She relaxes her shoulders, sinks into the mattress and pillows that Iphi would never admit are beginning to border on a nest.

He makes quick work of her trousers, thrown off with no care as usual. Coat follows, so she gets the luxury of relaxing into the bed once again, though he doesn’t yank her shirt off, merely pushes it up her chest so he has the full view of her milky skin. The fabric bunches on her heaving chest and she licks her lips, raising her hips in a silent challenge.

Iphi sneers momentarily, more of a warning than an actual emotion, and nudges her knees apart with his, none too gently. 

“My rules,” he signs, and she sighs in return, as theatrically as she can. There’s no denying the excited gleam in her mismatched eyes, or the way her tail lashes, pushed aside when it smacks into his thigh. He pulls her underwear down, lifting his gaze up just so he’s sure she can see the almost-mocking (though purely joking, she knows) look he gives her, almost as if saying ‘Really? Already?’

Blanche can’t even muster up a rebuttal. Let him call her easy (he’d never do that), but even being pushed down by him is enough to get her half-hard. Which he remedies almost instantly by wrapping a hand around her and stroking her to full hardness. She never gets enough of his hands, it seems, so big one covers all of her, every single ilm. 

She bucks into his touch, can’t help herself. But it only makes him take the hand away and click his tongue. 

“Stay still,” he signs. She just whines at him, and gets a moment of breathlessness as he pushes gravity down on the whole of her. “Don’t make me make this harder.”

“I’d like somethin’ hard of yers, if you catch me drift,” she chuckles when she’s released and can get a breath in again. At his glare, she rolls her eyes, “Fine, fine, have it yer way.”

He proceeds to ignore her remark, or pretends to, anyways. His hand returns to her cock, the other yanking the bedside drawer open with a curl of a finger. Their favorite jar flies at him and he catches it expertly, even as he swipes a thumb over the head of her dick, smearing precum and making her bite her bottom lip with a groan.

Twelve, why is everything this infuriating man does so sexy? It shouldn’t be possible.

Blanche spreads her legs wider, doesn’t even need to be nudged this time, and he rewards her with a pleased hum, now-wet fingers coming towards her entrance. Her eyes fall closed at the cold touch, but it lasts only seconds — two fingers are plunged into her and she makes a sound somewhere in the back of her throat, a mix between a moan and a whimper, instinctively pushing back against the fingers, pushing them in further.

Iphi half-heartedly swats at her thigh, so she forces herself to stay as still as possible. It’s very possible he’d call this whole thing off if she didn’t cooperate, though the chance is slimmer than her waist. One day she’ll learn why he needs to be so in control all the time. That time, however, is not now.

Her tail sways, ends up wrapping around her own leg as two fingers become three, pumping in and out of her and crooking, electricity running up and down her spine without a pause. She lets her voice out, knows that she can get to him, if only that way, and fills the walls of his apartment with whorish moans, fit to put any worker at the [brothel] to shame. She's ecstatic when she sees it working, Iphi's fingers driving into her faster, his mouth open just the barest little bit.

She's so focused on him that she doesn't even notice the fourth finger prodding around her stretching rim until it dips inside, pulling a choked groan from her that the neighbors heard clear as day, no doubt. Faintly, she wonders how them complaining would go. Not for long though, pulled from any lingering ideas and spiraling thought by the delicious drag over her walls, opening up every time Iphi pushes his fingers in, as far as they'd go.

It feels like it drags on forever, the unceasing sensation of his fingers only broken by the other touches, a hand on her cock, fingers trailing the edges of her scar, making her body twist this way and that way, gut clenching in the best of way. Fingers pinching her nipples, hand resting on her throat, never pushing down but clear in its ability to at any time.

"Iphi," she whines, when it gets too much, her body yearning for more touch, more pleasure, more more more everything. "Please, please, I'm ready."

The hand that isn't so deep inside her it feels like it's choking her whom within moves from her scar, skin sensitive and on fire from his teasing, and signs, "Are you close?"

"Y--" Her voice breaks even on that one word, so instead she nods, fast and hoping to get her point across. "Please-- I can't hold on anymore...!"

He just shakes his head, pulling his fingers out and grasping her cock at the base, fingers so tight it borders on painful. She whines, hips shooting up as the pain ebbs away some of the pleasure, pulls her down from the edge.

"Yes you can," he says, once he's sure she's paying attention to him and not squeezing her eyes closed against the feelings, "Tonight, you're not coming. Not until I do."

Blanche's fangs bite down at her lip so hard she can taste copper on her tongue right after, ears flattened against her scalp. Her chest heaves, sweat plastering both her shirt and her hair to her face, unruly and disheveled. "Please…" she begs, knowing he will not budge.

Switching hands, he starts stroking her again, other hand returning to her hole, a fresh coat of oil soothing her searing skin momentarily. Two fingers on the first thrust, three on the second, and then--

She keens, almost convulsing as his whole hand slips inside, stretching her so far she feels like she'll tear in two. She shakes, unsure whether to focus on the way the scales on the back of his hand scrapes against her insides or his other hand, pulling down her extra skin with each pump, thumb pressed to her tip, moving in the barest of little circles around the slit.

If she felt like she was choking on his fingers from within before, it's nothing compared to now, breath escaping her in shaky sighs every time he pushes in, even deeper, wrist disappearing inside her when she looks down, only contributing to how hard she shakes. The covers she'd torn apart with her claws already, clutching at the frayed bits in an attempt to ground herself. Even her tail, unsure of what to do with itself, has twisted around his forearm, tip waving to and fro frantically. She feels full to bursting, and, looking down, she can see her stomach distending when he pushes in, even  _ deeper _ . She can’t look for too long, throwing her head back involuntarily, teeth gritted.

His fingers squeeze at the base of her cock again. She hadn’t even realized she had been close again, and she’s denied,  _ again _ . She’s shaking like a leaf in the wind, sounds she can’t even identify as her own voice pouring out of her like a waterfall.

“Iphi— Iph… please, please, please, let me cum, please— I… I need—-”

He doesn’t let her, watching her face with a hawk-like stare, the way tears stream down her cheeks, flush spreading down her face and disappearing under the collar of her mussed shirt. She looks delectable, and he decides  _ he’s _ been waiting long enough.

Pulling his hand up makes her cry out again, as he makes sure to drag his scales over where he knows she feels it the most, blabbing her pleas over and over. His eyes don’t leave her even for a second as he pulls his pants off, top thrown off after it, jewelry and chains jingling against each other. 

Knowing just how strong Blanche is, uncontainable fury and power on the battlefield, and knowing it only took a bell and some change to get her to this state fills him with pride and a carnal need. The scales of his pouch are already parting, and it only takes a single finger — still coated in the slick he’d prepared her with — to coax his cocks out. If he angles himself so most of the slick that escapes him lands onto her twitching cock, well.

She’s certainly not complaining, not going by her half-whine, half-sob.

He grasps her thighs, spreading them even further and almost dragging her whole body down the bed so he can sink himself into her. The preparation has paid off, both of his cocks sliding home with no resistance. He doubts she could even put up any resistance right now; her entrance flutters around him weakly, unsure whether to tense or relax.

And the noises— oh Twelve, the noises. Her keen is high and animalistic, voice breaking at the end. He knows she’s close again. Or maybe she’s  _ still _ close, but either way, he holds her again, feeling how the vein under his fingers throbs, a glob of precum rolling down the side of her swollen cock. It’s such an angry red, pretty and perfect.

“Please, please, Iph… I wanna come— so, so bad— please, jus’ lemme… please I’m  _ so _ close!” she begs again, gasping for breath like a drowning man. Every ilm of her is on fire, nerves fried after so long.

Iphi hums in response, holding maybe just a little tighter.

“Please! Gods please! 

She’s thrashing her head side to side (he considers, for a moment, to restrain her, so she doesn’t hurt herself somehow), eyes squeezed shut but still leaking tears, rivulets down her cheeks and soaking into the pillows. 

Canopus wakes from its resting place, its ethereal glow illuminating the room. “ **_No, not yet_ ** ,” Iphi says, echoes bouncing between the walls. Blanche whines, choking out a cry followed by a sob. She’s so sensitive it feels like she’ll come even with Iphi holding her back.

But Iphi can’t be having that now, can he? Another soft smack to her thigh, just above where her fur ends, and he reaches to the bedside table. He grins wickedly, knowing she’s still not looking, too lost in herself to see what he’s holding, running his tongue over, saliva running over the length of the small, metal rod.

Holding her cock steady, it takes but a moment to position the rod and sink it into her cock. She cries out at the feeling, or maybe in surprise, body spasming uncontrollably. He holds down her hip, “ **_Be good and still._ ** ” It slides in effortlessly, aided by his saliva and all her precum, a surefire way to keep her on the edge and plugged up.

He’s watching her face as he pulls out and snaps his hips forward, finger toying with the rod, small pushes and pulls, in and out of her. Blanche’s mouth hangs open, drool dropping down her chin to mix with the tears, soft cries pouring out, a testament to her voice starting to give out. Licking his lips, he starts up a rhythm, hips pistoning in and out, fast and hard, just so he can hear the previous ones again, loud and unbidden.

And deliver she does, gasping in air she immediately loses with shouts, pleas and sobs each thrust. She’s enjoying this so much, Iphi marvels. Her pleas aside, precum still escapes around the little rod, and when he wraps his fingers around her cock, he can feel the rod inside. Stroking makes it move in and out in tandem, and oh— what a nice cry that was, tearing out of her throat.

Inside and out and  _ inside, _ she can feel him everywhere, and doesn’t know what feels better anymore. “P—Please… Iph, please!”

He closes his own eyes instead of acknowledging her words, letting the sounds and the tight, wet, perfect, so utterly perfect heat wash over him. His thrusts lose any semblance of a pace, snapping forward as he feels the heat in his stomach mount, chasing his high with short, jerky movements.

He comes with a trill, head leaning back, fingers digging into her hip and definitely leaving behind marks. Blanche whines, loud and desperate.

“Iph! Gods, fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she babbles, digging her heels into the small of his back as she’s filled, molten lava pouring into her already burning body, and she loves every single moment of it. Her stomach distends further, losing the outline of Iphi’s cocks as it holds all he gives her, more and more until it feels like she can’t hold a drop more.

She’s full-on sobbing now, a mantra of “Iphi, Iphi, Iph, Iph,” on a loop, desperately and futilely fighting the restraints of his gravity, so she can join him, finally, finally.

“ **_Look at me_ ** ,” he orders, punctuated by a single shallow thrust that makes all the cum inside her move and her mind blank for a second. He waits until the words register in her brain, until she opens her eyes and blinks away the tears to the best of her ability, and signs, “Ready to come for me?”

“Gods! Yes, please! Please please please! Please, Iphi, please, please please!”

With a gin, he grasps the rod and pulls it out of her cock, so much longer than she thought it was, and her world shatters, her mind going white and then completely black and blank. She can’t hear herself, but her hoarse cry could no doubt be heard all the way at the palace, and Iphi helps her along with a few pumps to her oversensitive cock, angling it so most of her cum lands on her stomach and chest, a few spurts coating his hand. 

He pulls out, accompanied by a slew of his own cum, staining the bed even further. Ah, they’d made a mess again. He can deal with it later.

The gravity lets up, Blanche’s arms falling boneless by her head. Iphi takes this little moment to just watch her, blissed out and completely out of it, cock still twitching even after there’s nothing left, chest heaving as she finally gets the much-needed air.

Iphi sighs, spent and sated and prideful, flops down onto the bed next to her, away from the growing puddle as more and more cum leaks out, no longer held in. It takes long, long minutes for her to come back to herself, a testament to how he’d  _ wrecked _ her. But when she does, she just turns over, arm falling over his chest in an attempt to hug him close, her leg— smack dab in the middle of the puddle of cum. 

She will be complaining about that, when she wakes up.

Then again, maybe not.

**Author's Note:**

> sir this is not how you use a canopus lux, you cant just use it as a SPEAKING AID during sex


End file.
